Broken Heart Collection
by Firediva0
Summary: A collection for all of my sad/tragic stories.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Do You Still Love Me?**

 **Pairing: Lord Voldemort x Harry Potter**

 **Rating: Mature - Explicit**

 **Warnings: Sexual Content**

 **Summary: Sometimes, falling in love isn't enough.**

* * *

When you love someone with your all, you allow them to see you at your worst. They see not only your tears, but also your heart. When Harry had given himself completely to Tom, he had fully expected the other man to give himself up, as well. Alas, things didn't work out that way.

Rather than being the wonderful husband Harry had imagined him to be, he changed. Back in the day, the older man would bring him flowers and shower him with praises. Now? Now, all Tom did was dismiss him, giving him the occasional insult wrapped in pretty words. Gone was the man who told him that he loved him on a regular basis. Gone was the man who kissed him goodnight, holding him close. Gone was the man Harry had fallen in love with.

The mere thought of it makes him want to cry.

"Tom?" Harry calls out softly, entering their shared apartment. No one answers him and Harry sighs, already knowing that the other man wasn't home. It's been like this for weeks. No matter what time Harry came home from his shift at the police department, Tom was never home. Then, when Harry was on the precipice of falling asleep, the man would come home, stumbling through their shared apartment.

Drunk, always drunk.

On those nights, Harry would roll his eyes and help the man get to bed, protesting half-heartedly when Tom would try to grope him. He would always give in; the man's entrancing crimson eyes always making him melt on the inside.

"This is the last time," he would always say. He knew it was lies, yet he would still try to be firm. Tom would merely nod his assent and lean down to nip at Harry's throat, encouraged by the loud moans of approval. From there, they'd have sex. No longer did they make love. Love was something that couldn't be found in their relationship. Everything they did was fast and dirty, no kindness in sight.

In the morning, Harry would regret it too. He'd clutch his sore arse, glaring daggers at the peacefully slumbering man. In the end, he'd go to work, allowing the cycle to start again.

Downright pitiful, that's what it was.

Sighing, Harry makes his way up to their bedroom, cringing when the smell of sex hit him full throttle. He enters the room, going to pick up the clothes that they had thrown last night in their haste. When that was done, he goes to throw himself on the bed.

He doesn't know what to do; doesn't know how to fix the situation he's somehow found himself in. He loves Tom, he really does, but he can't help but wonder if Tom loves him anymore.

Looking up absently, he feels tears begin to burn in his eyes.

Once upon a time, Tom had been everything. There had been no Harry without Tom. He had loved the man; had wanted him with every fiber of his being. He knows that Tom had felt the same; he knows that the other man had loved him so much it _hurt_ , but he didn't know if those feelings still existed.

Curling into a ball, Harry loses track of time. He doesn't know how long he's laid there, tears streaming down his face. He simply knows that Tom's arms are suddenly around him, pulling him to a familiar chest.

"Don't cry, little one," Tom whispers, placing a kiss on Harry's forehead. Harry whines low in his throat, cuddling closer to the other man.

"Don't leave me," he begs. "I love you, Tom."

Tom sighs, reaching down to gently pull Harry's chin up, forcing the younger man to look him straight in the eyes.

"I'm not going to leave you, Harry," he promises. "Don't you know I love you?"

"Do you?" Harry retorts. "You're always drunk, always away. Where _are_ you, Tom?"

"I'm right here," Tom rushes to assure him. "I just have stuff to take care of, baby. It has me stressed out. I'm forever and always by your side, though. Don't you remember our vows?"

"Of course I do," Harry answers with a fond smile. "I love you, Harry James Potter. Until the day I die, I'll always love you. Forever and always…"

"Exactly," Tom begins. "Now, let's stop before you get to the mushy stuff."

Harry laughs, the sound watery.

"Those are my favorite parts, though," he comments idly. "You were so adorable, blushing like that."

"How about mortifying?" Tom tries. Despite his words, he's smiling too, his eyes gleaming with amusement. They sit there in silence for a moment, each lost within their own thoughts.

"Tom?" Harry asks after a while, suddenly serious. Tom nods, instructing him to continue. "We're alright, right?"

Instead of answering, Tom leans down and presses a chaste kiss on the other's lips.

"Definitely."

* * *

 **Written for:**

 **Fanfiction Month October - 809.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Set Fire to the Rain**

 **Pairing: Lord Voldemort x Harry Potter**

 **Rating: Mature - Explicit**

 **Warnings: Sexual Content, Alternate Universe.**

 **Summary: When one is married to the Dark Lord, you can only expect infidelity to follow.**

* * *

Loud moans pour from the bedroom, echoing loudly in his ears. Harry continues to sit on the floor outside of their chambers, his hands clutching his head tightly.

"No," he whispers brokenly. "This can't be happening."

The sound of his husband and the man's lover reaching their climax echoes loudly throughout their home, drowning out the silent mantra Harry repeats.

"Please…" he mumbles. "Don't make me listen to this."

The sound of the bed rocking obscenely finally begins to slow, signaling the end of the couple's tryst. When the sound of footsteps approaching the door meets his ears, Harry gets up and runs. He can't take it, can't take the fact that the person he pledged his devotion to would do such a thing. Darkness begins to set in, sweet whispers reaching his ears. _It's okay_ , he thinks. _These things happen. Don't let it affect you._

Harry wipes the tears that fall slowly down his cheeks, forcing himself to hold his head up high as he runs throughout their home.

"No," he says, voice booming. Slowly, he comes to a stop, shaking his head. The look in his emerald eyes is icy. They're completely devoid of emotion. "This won't break me."

The silent, _it feels like it already has_ , is ignored.

* * *

They're in a meeting, their loyal followers surrounding them. Harry sits beside Voldemort, his back ramrod straight. His eyes stare determinedly into the open space in front of him, and he actively ignores the looks their followers send him.

Every few moments, he'd feel his husband's gaze boring into his head, silently demanding that they talk later. Harry pays it no mind, though. Rather, he continues to stare ahead, only paying attention when they mention the rebellion. When the meeting draws to a close, he doesn't move. Instead, he continues to sit, watching with mild interest as the last Death Eater closes the door behind them.

Finally, it's only the Dark Lord and himself left.

"What is wrong with you?" The Dark Lord asks, his silky voice washing over Harry like a loving caress. The younger wizard turns slightly in his throne, merely watching the other man.

"What do you think?" he retorts, voice soft. He can see by the way the Dark Lord studies him that the man is weary.

"I don't know," the man eventually settles on. "I suppose it's about the Granger girl?"

Harry turns his head, almost disappointed. Sure, in the beginning, he had been pissed off about not being alerted to her presence, but that seemed like a far away memory now.

"You truly don't know?" he asks, turning to look back at his beloved. Voldemort shakes his head, and Harry sighs in resignation. "Perhaps, that is for the best."

Without waiting for permission, the young man rises from his seat and walks towards the door, only turning once he reached it.

"Come on, my King," he purrs, a flash of raw desire in his eyes. "Make love to me."

 _Help me forget the young men who sneak out of our chambers; help me forget the moans that continue to haunt me every second of every day…._

 _Give me freedom…_

All of it goes unsaid.

* * *

Upon entering their chambers, Harry does not hesitate to pick out a blindfold. When he sees Voldemort shoot him a questioning look, he merely shrugs.

"I want this to be special, my King," he whispers. Voldemort nods and even helps him put it on, gently guiding Harry to the bed. Confidently, he pushes the boy until he's laying down on it. The Dark Lord climbs on top of the furniture, moving to straddle him. Finally, when his body drapes over his consort, Voldemort reaches out to gently caress Harry's stomach.

"Beautiful," he whispers, pushing the other's top until it bunches up around his shoulders. "Absolutely stunning."

That night, the two of them come together, impassioned moans and whispered pleas echoing throughout the room. When Voldemort climaxes inside of him, Harry screams the other's name loudly, arching up so he can kiss the entrancing neck in front of him.

"Mine," he whispers fervently, ignoring Voldemort as he continues to thrust shallowly inside of him. "Mine, mine, mine. No one can have you."

The Dark Lord expresses the same sentiments over and over, declaring that Harry was his and only his. Unknown to him; however, tears of sorrow were slowly leaking out of Harry's eyes. To Voldemort, they were merely a result of an overwhelming surge of passion. To Harry, they were something different.

 _Never yours, Harry,_ the voice taunts. _He will never be satisfied with only you._

In the boy's mind, he can still hear the thrusting of the bed, can still hear the raw pleasure that echoed within the screams of the other boys.

 _Never, ever, yours…_

When Voldemort finally pulls out and takes off the blindfold, he goes to the bathroom to get a washcloth. In that moment, the loneliness Harry feels is unparalleled.

"Always alone," Harry whispers sadly.

No one hears him.

* * *

 **A/N: As I'm going through a very emotional time right now, I wanted to find an outlet by creating a collection. This collection, naturally, will have very sensitive themes. If you can't take sad things, then please don't read this. Thanks in advance.**

 **Written for:**

 **Defense Against the Dark Arts - Assignment 8 -** **Write about relying on one of the five senses when another one is missing. This can be permanently or temporary. Extra Prompt: (word) icy. Note: Harry relied on touch and hearing.**

 **Year Long Scavenger Hunt - Write a collection of drabbles with a specific theme. My theme: Heart vs. Mind.**

 **Fan-fiction** **Writing Month - October - 835 words.**


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